


Metal Galaxy

by depressionjutsu (fullfeature)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Captured Keith, Gen, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullfeature/pseuds/depressionjutsu
Summary: Keith swirls the blood in his mouth. It would not be wise to spit on a throne.





	Metal Galaxy

“Do you know what this is?” Zarkon asks. It is a metal throne, casted in odd shapes, swirling colors of all kinds throughout. His claws rap against it, there is no hollow clang. It spreads through the room, trailing to the door and the far windows. It looks like candle wax, dripped across the floor.    
  


“A throne,” Keith says. He swishes the blood around his mouth, swallows it. It would not be wise to spit blood on a throne.    
  


“It is a thousands ships. More than. Melted down and mixed together, poured on top of one another. It is a reminder that I have conquered more than you ever hope to. I have wars worth of blood on my hands, paladin, and you have one drop.”    
  


Keith is silent. His face is starting to hurt, blood drying on the sides of his mouth. He thinks of all the races Voltron has saved, the ships they must have lost to this monument. His next breath is through gritted teeth.    
  


Zarkon smiles at him. Not quite happy, not quite teasing. It is a challenge. Indulgent almost. Like he knows what Keith is thinking. He sits up straighter, leaning towards Keith and speaking with careful diction.    
  


“Eventually, when Voltron is useless, when my druids have pulled the secrets from those lions’ guts, ripped their quintessence from their motherboards, I will melt them too. Pour their shells out for me and every Galra to step on.”    
  


Keith thinks of Shiro, of Lance. He thinks of the people that have a family to go back to. He says nothing. He needs his strength.    
  


Zarkon accepts his silence. He also seems to know what Keith is thinking. “I hope you understand that I will step on you too, Keith, if I must.” He pauses, lets the words hang. “It does not have to be that way, you know. Sometimes our greatest adversaries can become our most worthy alliances.” Zarkon sweeps his arms out in a wide arc. His throne glitters in the starlight, and the shadows quake.    
  


Zarkon’s eyes bore into his. There is a message here, Keith knows. Keith thinks of dead deer heads, stuffed tigers, bearskin rugs. He thinks of rich white men with demure, beautiful women on their arms. He thinks of the ribbons Shiro had on his mantle, the trophies.    
  


“Dismissed.” Zarkon says. He doesn’t look away from Keith’s eyes, not even as the guards pull him from the room, his legs kicked out from under him. Keith does not know exactly what they’re saying, but their golden glow is intense, burning, branding.      

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
